


Rose Colored Glasses

by BrotatochipDG



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Franklin Delano Donut - Freeform, Gen, Hurt, but no comfort, donut stands up for himself, kind of sad sorry, rvb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:14:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23870686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrotatochipDG/pseuds/BrotatochipDG
Summary: Donut realizes some unpleasant things about his life with the Reds and Blues.
Kudos: 23





	Rose Colored Glasses

Time is confusing, to him. It’s day after day, probably, although who can tell with a sun that never sets? Time must pass, even though nothing ever changes. Year after year, moment after moment.

Tucker will always make passes at anyone who breathes, Caboose will always be in his own little world, the Blues will always oppose the Reds.

Grif will always take naps, Sarge will always shoot him with his trusty shotgun, Simmons will always kiss ass, Lopez will always say his mind for the sake of no one, and Donut will always, always, be left behind.

How long had life been like this? He thinks he was happy, once. He thinks they were the closest thing he ever had to a family. He’d catch Grif curled up sleeping, and tuck a blanket over his shivering form. If Simmons looked too stressed, he’d silently set a mug of steaming tea next to him. He followed every command Sarge ever gave, even when they were followed by biting insults. He tried so, so hard to understand Lopez. Even when it was frustrating and hard, Donut was there for all of them no questions asked, with a smile on his face and a sunny attitude.

It’s hard, when a bubble like that pops. When one day you realize, all of a sudden, that you’ve been viewing the world slightly wrong. A shade different. When that lightish red turned pink, right there in front of his eyes, and every memory he had was colored in a different light. 

Left behind, forgotten. Grif cared about Simmons. Tucker cared about Caboose. Here, now, years and years of struggling to catch up, he knows that nobody here ever really cared for him.

Maybe it was okay. You can’t force someone to love you, Donut knows that, or his parents would still be speaking to him. He wasted a lot of time (it keeps coming around to time) but it’s okay! He can still cherish those times, even if they’re a little more bitter now. Bittersweet chocolate is excellent for baking, it’s okay if his time on the Reds feels the same.

Except that it’s not. He’s standing here, in the past that feels like the present because nobody is listening to him and no one ever has, and he’s crying. It’s an eternity ago, and so many of them are different, but also not different at all when it comes to him and it’s a little overwhelming to know he’s the only one that can save them.

All there is to do is figure out the next step. March forward, do the next thing to accomplish his goal. He can’t stop to panic, he can’t give up just because they won’t listen. Of course this would happen, it’s always been his experience with them. 

He recruits Wash, and he’s shot. Again, again, again. The pain of it doesn’t fade, yet doesn’t linger, it is fresh and sharp anew each time. It feels like realization. 

When they finally, finally all understand what’s going on, when they’re pooled together and they’re ready to move on, they still find a way to have disdain for him. Traitor, betrayer, enemy. They’re going to vote on whether they should kill him. He deserves it. No he doesn’t? He hates that he can’t brush this off anymore.

It’s easy to be stupid, he thinks, and almost feels a little jealous of Caboose, until he remembers being imprisoned by the Blues and Reds and watching while Temple shattered his world and feels a tiny bit of kinship instead.

Everything is harder, when you notice something that you never noticed before. If he could go back in time, which he can, he’d tell himself to get out before he started to love them, except he wouldn’t because that defeats the purpose of everything he’s trying to do now. It sucks and time sucks and he simultaneously wishes and doesn’t wish that his life was different. 

Wash tells them to give him a chance. Sarge refuses, twisting his words like he always does. Grif is unforgiving, even though they all forgave him for abandoning them in their hunt for Church and it stings. If he was one of them, this would be different. 

Washington is kind, probably the kindest of them all deep down, but that’s the reason it doesn’t quite help when he sticks up for him. Donut has proven to be necessary, has shown how hard he’s trying. Wash can recognize that, and fight for what is right. He is a good man, and Donut respects that, but he is acutely aware that his defense is not because of any friendship or caring. 

He rushes off, to cry or mope or pull himself together or wait for his inevitable fate. He’s not quite sure, but he runs into Tucker. Kai didn’t take this seriously, she never seems to take much seriously. Still she is one of them, of course she is, she is family. He snaps Tucker out of it quickly because the pain is sharp once more, and he doesn’t really like feeling jealous.

He speaks with Doc. Doc understands, somewhat. He must, he fits in even less than he does, but he’s indifferent too. He isn’t agonizing over his love for these people. He sticks around because nobody else alive could possibly understand the trauma of O’Malley, or maybe because he has nowhere else to go.

It was a good fight, their fight through time. Doc tells him so. He remembers struggling, forcing himself to win, doing everything in his power to succeed so his friends could be saved. He remembers every throw of a grenade, every small kindness he’s shown, every large gesture. His anguish boils into a blinding rage.

He yells. Donut never yells. He gets their attention, somehow holds their attention. Tells them everything the old Donut wouldn’t dare say, he’d never want to hurt them. This version doesn’t care. This version wears his pink armor like a badge of honor. He is petty, he is honest. It feels good.

And then he is done. He will finish the job, save them from themselves and the past and the future because he loves them, but he also hates them. Hates them, hates them, and once this is over he will leave and find himself and find real friends and someone who will love him the way he loves the reds and blues, and he won’t look back. 

He’ll feel better about this, eventually. The sharp pain will ebb away, until nothing is left but a memory of how this feels, a memory of what his life was like when he existed in the background of his own life.

Donut will get over this. All he needs is time.

**Author's Note:**

> Whoops a bit sad I love Donut and really felt for him in season 17. 18 is coming soon and I needed to get back into the RVB mindset, because of course I’ll write fics once it’s out. I hope Donut is happy, whatever happens.


End file.
